


Where's My Sexcapade Posse?

by CJ_fics



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, established olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_fics/pseuds/CJ_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a quiet night in Felicity wonders about what it would be like to have friends to brag about sexcapades with. The conversation with Oliver devolves, then evolves into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where's My Sexcapade Posse?

“Are we seriously watching this?” Oliver asks, a smile in his voice as he pulls Felicity closer into him, the unmistakable piano tune coming from the TV speakers.

It’s a slow Saturday evening, and things in Star City are quiet. After a few hours of patrolling the city, the team opted to take the rest of the night. Thea had gone out on a date. Laurel had headed for her office to finish preparing for a trial she was leading the next day. John had gone home for some quality time with his family. For Oliver and Felicity, it meant a quiet night in.

Oliver had cooked a late night dinner of lamb (properly medium rare, as per Felicity’s preference) and sauteed kale. They finished their meal with leftover krullers that Oliver had made a few days back.

They are currently lying on the couch in front of the TV, bodies too tired and brains too active to do more than cuddle as they watch whatever show re-running.

And apparently, the show for tonight is “ _Sex and the City_ ”.

“It’s not like you’re watching,” Felicity responds, tilting her head so her jaw lightly hits the side of Oliver’s face that was currently buried on the spot between her shoulder and her neck. His spot – or so he had claimed.

Oliver purrs in response and digs his nose and lips deeper into his spot, tightening his arms and legs around her.

As she absent-mindedly watches Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha have one of their usual lunches, gently running her fingers on Oliver’s forearm, Felicity realises something.

“I’ve never had that,” she muses out loud.

“What?” Oliver barely lifts his head from his spot.

“Friends like that,” she says, nodding towards the TV screen.

Oliver frowns and lifts his head higher, “You have friends.”

“Of course, I do,” Felicity chuckles, “But I don’t have friends that I can talk about sex with. I don’t think I’ve ever had friends that I talked about sex with.”

“You can talk about sex with me,” Oliver suggests playfully, “Go straight to the source, and get instant results,” he flirtatiously rubs his hips against hers.

Felicity rolls her eyes at him as she nudges his hips away from hers, “It’s different.”

“How so?” Oliver bends forward enough to get a glimpse of her face.

“Look at them,” Felicity temporarily removes her hand from Oliver’s forearm to motion to the TV screen, “They’re having lunch and updating each other on their sexcapades! About their men – or woman, in Samantha’s case.”

“So?”

“So, it feels like a rite of passage that I’ve missed out on,” Felicity admits, “I’ve never done that.”

“Never?”

“Never,” she nods, “In high school, I had no sexcapades to talk of – and barely any friends. At M.I.T., when I finally got a sex life –”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Oliver growls, nipping the point of her jaw playfully.

“Sure, Mr. I-Went-Through-Sorority-Houses-in-Four-Universities-Like-It-Was-Going-Out-Of-Style,” Felicity retorts with a chuckle and a light pinch on his forearm.“

"Point well taken,” Oliver concedes, nuzzling her neck with the side of his face, “Go on.”

“In uni, all of my female friends – and the gay guys – no one was really interested in having those kinds of conversations,” Felicity continues, relaxing further into the curve of Oliver’s body, “We were too busy building robots, writing code, hacking into each others servers, and talking about the pros and cons of free and open source software.”

“You built robots?” Oliver asks, “That’s kinda hot.”

“Kind of missing the point here, Oliver,” Felicity laughs, hitting the top of his head lightly, “You’re such a boy sometimes.”

“I am, Ms. It’s-Really-Hot-Whenever-You-Sharpen-Your-Arrows,” he teases, pinching her waist lightly.

“OK, point,” she chuckles.

“So, at M.I.T. you were busy being a kickass techie goddess,” Oliver prods, “Continue.”

“Yeah, well, my friends and I never talked about sex and our love lives,” Felicity says, “Even though most of us had boyfriends and girlfriends. So, there wasn’t any lack of material to talk about.”

“And after?”

“Well, then I was busy with QC, climbing up the corporate ladder and all,” Felicity says, “Then this really hot dude walked into my office with this funny story about spilling a latte on his bullet-ridden laptop – and my life was never the same again. I – Huh.”

“What?” Oliver lifts his head to look at her, “What, ‘Huh’?”

“Well, I just realise that now is the right time for me to get friends that I can talk about sex with,” she says, “It’s not like in uni, the sex was something to brag about. Or even after, when I moved to Starling. Now, I’m actually having sex that’s worthy to have its own TV show – or brag to my friends about!”

Oliver chuckles, the sound coming deep from his chest, jostling her body, “You’re welcome.”

Felicity laughs at the pride in his voice, “It’s not like you’re doing all the work.”

“Oh, I know that, and I’m eternally grateful,” Oliver smiles smugly.

“Did you have friends like that?” Felicity asks.

“Well, I think it’s different with boys,” Oliver says lightly, “Tommy and I used to brag to each other about our – what did you call them? Sexcapades. We once thought about having a blog or writing a book about those.”

“Oh, yeah, I bet you did,” Felicity teases, loving that Oliver can now talk about Tommy with barely any guilt – with just fond remembrance the good times they shared.

“But it’s different with men – boys, really,” Oliver continues, “It was kind of like a one-up-man thing. It was kind of competitive to a degree. Or fodder for the next sexual encounter. Or for bragging rights.”

"Oh, I doubt it’s that different with women,” Felicity says, “We can get competitive about such things, too. Didn’t you just hear me say that I now have a dozen sexcapades to brag about with my imaginary posse of women?”

“Just a dozen?” Oliver asks, affronted, “Surely, you have more. We have more.”

“OK, fine, an entire six seasons of twenty-three episodes per season worth of bragging,” Felicity chuckles.

“That’s sounds about right,” Oliver agrees, nuzzling her neck again, “And growing.”

She laughs as she says, “You’re welcome.”

“When I returned though,” Oliver continues in a more subdued voice, “I didn’t even think about having that kind of conversations. Even with Tommy.”

“Of course, you were different,” she says, “You were not a boy anymore.”

He nods before saying, “I can’t imagine me and Digg, or me and Roy, talking about our sexcapades.”

“Well, not with Roy, given who he was having his sexcapades with,” Felicity says, “But not even Digg?”

“Not even with Digg,” he says.

“How about Barry?”

“I doubt that Allen has any sexcapades to talk about,” Oliver jokes.

“Hey!” Felicity slaps his forearm, “Mind the smugness, sir!”

Oliver nods and buries his chuckles on her shoulder.

“Cisco?” Feiicity prods.

“Listen to what you’re saying, Felicity,” Oliver says with a raised brow.

Felicity chuckles in response.

“It’s different now,” Oliver muses out loud.

“How so?”

“Well, it’s _you_ ,” he says, “All my sexcapades will be with you from now until I die. And I don’t want anyone to be privy to that.”

“Not even to brag a little bit sometimes?” Felicity raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, maybe,” Oliver admits lightly, “OK, I’m lying. Sometimes, after a really great night or morning or afternoon together, I kind of want to scream from the top of a building, ’ _That satisfied look on Felicity Smoak’s face? Do you see how relaxed and giddy she is? I, Oliver Queen, did that! Five times! Boo-ya!_ ’”

Felicity laughs so hard that she folds her body over Oliver’s forearms.

“Who am I kidding? I feel that way every time,” Oliver says with a huge smile on his face.

“You are such a boy!” Felicity exclaims, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

“I’m _the_ man!” Oliver retorts, chucking and pulling her closer so she doesn’t fall of the edge of the couch.

“You wanna know a secret?” Felicity asks, still chortling.

“About you? Always,” Oliver says with a breathy huff.

“I feel that way all the time, too,” Felicity says, smiling.

“That’s why you want your own Sex in the City posse,” he concludes.

“Maybe,” Felicity hums.

“All right, let’s consider options,” Oliver says, “I wouldn’t want you to miss out on such a rite of passage.”

“Well, it can’t be Thea – for obvious reasons,” Felicity muses aloud.

“Yes, please.”

“Can’t be Laurel – that would be awkward,” Felicity continues, visibly shuddering at the thought of sharing notes with Oliver’s ex about his sexual prowess.

“Agreed,” Oliver nods, “Lyla?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to know – I won’t ever be – what Digg’s like in bed,” Felicity says.

“Caitlin? Iris?” Oliver suggests.

“That’s a thought,” Felicity says, considering the notion.

“Do you want to go to Central City soon so you can have lunch with Caitlin and Iris?” Oliver offers.

“Maybe not Iris though,” Felicity says in a sad tone,“It might be too hard for her to talk about Eddie.”

“Yeah,” Oliver nods somberly, “So, Caitlin then.”

“Maybe.”

“We can go to Central City and then Ronnie and I can hang out while the wifeys have lunch and talk about us,” Oliver says.

“I doubt that Caitlin would be interested to share sexcapades about her husband, ” Felicity looks sideways at him, “Wait. Did you just call us 'wifeys’?”

“Yep,” he smiles.

“I’m not your wifey,” Felicity reminds him lightly.

“Not legally, no,” he responds, “But in every way that matters, you are.”

“How so?”

Oliver turns her body so her back is on the couch, he moves so he can face her fully,  "You’re the only one I will ever be with until I die. And I will love you forever. You’re my partner in every aspect of our lives. And you have no problem bossing me around. Or calling me out on my bullshit.“

Felicity gasps at the sincerity in Oliver’s face, unable to verbalise a response.

"So, do you want to make it official?” Oliver asks tentatively.

“Are – Oliver – are you asking – what?” Felicity stammers.

“I’m asking you to marry me,” Oliver nods with a shy but sure smile.

“Like _right now_?” Felicity’s eyes widen.

“Right now,” Oliver smiles softly, then stiffens before scrambling off of her and the couch, “Wait. The ring! I have to – Wait right here. Don’t move!”

“There’s a _ring_ …?” Felicity murmurs, still unable to believe what is happening as she watches as Oliver rush to the leather jacket on a hook by the doorway.

He returns with a small, flat, black case in his hand, taking his former position on top of her. He takes a deep breath and then smiles at her, “Felicity Megan Smoak, will you marry me?”

He presses a button on the side of the flat case that opens the two sides of it, revealing a diamond and platinum ring nestled inside.

“How long have you had this?” Felicity asks, reaching a hand out to tentatively stroke one of the open sides of the case.

“Since we decided to move to Coast City,” Oliver confesses, “I bought this the day after we found a house there.”

“That long ago?” Felicity looks at him with wide eyes.

“I was going to propose the night that Thea and Laurel called us back here,” Oliver admits nervously.

“The soufflé?” She knew there was something special about that night, and there was something amiss with Oliver’s  behaviour that evening, and his reaction to the presence of Thea and Laurel in their home.

“The soufflé,” Oliver confirms with a small nod, “Well?”

“What was the question again?” Felicity asks in a teasing voice, biting her lower lip as she smiles at Oliver.

He does the huff-chuckle combination that he always does when she’s done something that amazes him – one of her favourite sounds in the whole wide world, before saying, “Will you make me the luckiest man on earth? Will you stay with me until we grow old? Will you fight then make up with me forever? Will you be my never-ending source of hope, inspiration and support? Will you let me be _your_ never-ending source of hope, inspiration and support? Will you promise to love me, and let me love you back until we die? Will you marry me, Felicity Megan Smoak?”

Felicity’s eyes well with tears as she nods eagerly, reaching up to wrap her arms around Oliver’s neck.

He bends his neck to reach to kiss her, tears of happiness welling in his own eyes. They lose track of time as they share multiple kisses, mouths open, tongues tangling, nibbling and sucking at each others lips.

As they pull away to catch their breaths, Oliver raises his hand that has been clutching the unique ring case to offer it again to Felicity, “Will you put this on now?”

“You put it on me,” she says with a huge smile.

He plucks the ring from where it’s nestles in the case, reaching for her left hand to slide the ring on the proper finger. A perfect fit.

“It’s beautiful, Oliver,” Felicity gasps, looking at the ring.

“You are,” he says, looking at her, dropping the ring box to the floor and bending his head to kiss her again, “What do you say we add engagement sex to your imaginary bragging session?”

Felicity laughs, clutching his neck tighter as he lifts them from the couch, “We better make it something worth bragging about, hubby.”

“Don’t we always, wifey?”

/end

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: http://outoftheclosetshipper.tumblr.com/post/130192524548/wheres-my-sexcapade-posse


End file.
